


As Memories Resurface

by BloodCalling13



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Attempted Murder, F/M, Miscarriage, Murder, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21904696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodCalling13/pseuds/BloodCalling13
Summary: As I lay dying, memories long buried surface, of castles, an adventure, and a man who loved me all the same. Sarah lays dying but in her last moments, she makes a call and it brings Jareth back into her destroyed life. warning: spouse abuse and miscarriage. Jareth/Sarah
Relationships: Jareth & Sarah Williams, Jareth/Sarah Williams
Comments: 9
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this story is one I wrote nearly 11 years ago and had posted on FF.net long before I joined up here. Since I recently came back to it, I decided to post it here. There's no scheduled updates. The first chapter is the only one that will be from a POV

Memories danced before my eyes, visions I had long ago put away forever. I could see the barren lands, seemingly void of all life as far as the eye could see. I could see the massive walls, tall and ominous with the whisper of strength that had only grown with the pass of time. I could spot the little pool and the bushes where the fairies lived. I could see the majestic castle, its distance once a hard journey but now a faded memory.

It was beautiful, the mighty Labyrinth surrounding the ominous castle. I could even hear the whispers that I hadn’t before, of the life of the Labyrinth, of its powers and its unwillingness to be conquered or cheated. I could hear them all, the faded voices of my friends and of those that tried to slow me down on the King’s orders. I could even hear his voice, though faint as it was I could still make out the words of long ago.

_“But, if you turn it this way and look into it…”_

_“Everything that you wanted, I have done.”_

_“I have done it all for you.”_

_“I have been generous up until now, but I can be cruel.”_

I had been wrong then. I had thought the Goblin King cruel without equal for doing as I had asked, as _I_ had wished. I did not think he had been generous in any way. I was wrong and I know it now. He had been generous; he had laid his kingdom at my feet, offered me my most cherished dreams, given me a beautiful memory of the ballroom, and moved me through the Labyrinth so that I could save my brother. He did it all in the name of love, even if it meant the rejection of his offers. _“Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave…”_ He had done it all for me. He knew generosity; I did not.

Now, I know cruelty. I know pain, disappointment, ridicule, but most of all cruelty. As I lay dying in a pool of my own blood, I know cruelty. I did not do this to myself, I did not allow it to happen. I simply wasn’t strong enough to stop him. Mark, the man I had married at twenty and thought I had loved, did this to me. To our baby. She is gone, off to a better place while I lie, weak with blood loss, waiting to join her. I would be with her soon, but I must do something while Mark is away.

It has been years since I called. Life and Mark had gotten in the way. Things I thought so important then I now realize were trivial in comparison. I don’t have the strength to climb up to my old vanity mirror, but I think he will hear anyways.

“Hoggle,” my voice is hoarse but I can do nothing about it. I know Hoggle will recognize it no matter what.

“Sarah?” a familiar voice answers me. I turn to see Hoggle staring at me, his large eyes filled with worry. Time had left him untouched since I last saw him, the only exception being his bag of jewels had grown a little. I smiled at him even as he stared wide eyed at my bloody dress and legs. “What happened?”

“I’m dying Hoggle,” I said. I feel so calm, so uncaring. It must be my blood loss. My body is numb and I know I should feel pain but the numbness is slowly creeping up on me. “I need you to do me a favor.”

Hoggle clutched my hand and I can feel how cold mine are in comparison. “We need to get you help.” Hoggle tried to move but I held him in place. I am too far gone to help.

“I am too far gone,” I gesture to the blood soaking into the carpet in a widening pool. “I need you to do me this favor Hoggle.”

He looked down at the blood and his face seemed to get whiter. I cannot blame him, I’m sure it is a terrible sight for him but he was the only one I knew who could handle this. “Anything Sarah, just tell me who did this to you.”

I smile. The ever defensive Hoggle to my rescue. “Tell Sir Didymus and Ludo thank you for all their years of friendship, of being there when I needed them and for helping me through the Labyrinth. Tell them I always miss them and that I love them. The same for you Hoggle.” I stopped to catch my breath and wish I had the strength to wipe the tears from Hoggle’s face. It hurt to watch him cry over me.

“Sarah, you need help. Please tell me who did this,” Hoggle pleaded. I can see he’s determined to try and get it out of me. Maybe I shouldn’t have called on him. Maybe it would have been better if I had died alone. And yet, it felt right to tell him. I knew it in my heart that this was right, for the pain would have been much worse if I had not said goodbye. They never would have known how I felt for them. I could not handle that guilt, not when I was leaving them behind.

My eyes are getting heavy so I close them. I cannot watch Hoggle cry anymore. It’s too painful to see. _“I move the stars for no one.”_ I heard the voice whisper in my head and knew I was not done. “Tell the Goblin King I’m sorry. He was being generous and it took me seven years to see that. Tell him thank you for letting me get Toby back and for his offer of his heart. I am truly thankful.” I stop there, though I wish to say more. I’m too exhausted to go on so the rest will pass with me. I can’t even feel Hoggle’s hand anymore. I can barely hear him sobbing next to me. All I can see is the Labyrinth in the distance.

“Goodbye…” was all I said before the world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Hoggle drew up his black cloak and hobbled on in the darkness, searching for a hidden doorway. If Jareth caught him, it wouldn’t be hard to guess who he was. There were no other Dwarfs outside of Hoggle in the Labyrinth. Thankfully the King had not come to see his old tutor tonight as he had often done since the departure of Sarah and Toby. Lady Destiny seemed to be on his side tonight. Hoggle took it as a sign that he was doing something preordained since he had yet to be caught.

Catching a glimpse of a sparkle in the darkness, Hoggle moved over to see if it was what he hoped it to be. It was the brass hanging of both a rather large knocker and a handle, the sign he had found the Tutor’s door. The brass knob on the Tutor’s door was just out of Hoggle’s reach. He jumped several times but the damn thing was too high up and Hoggle did not dare scream out of frustration, though he did mumble rather foul profanities. Instead, he resorted to plan B.

“Ludo,” Hoggle whispered. “Get over here.”

“From around the corner of the Labyrinth’s walls came Ludo’s large frame swaying as he walked. He was quieter than normal, the smart beast. He had a vague idea of what was going on, it’s hard to keep something like this a secret, but Ludo guessed it was really important to be sneaking into the Labyrinth close to the Goblin City through the secret tunnels. Hoggle just hoped he was smart enough to keep very quiet.

“Open the door Ludo,” Hoggle said. Then on an after thought, “Quietly please.”

Ludo nodded his shaggy head and Hoggle stepped out of the way. Ludo leaned his whole body against the resistant door, and it gave way. Ludo didn’t have time to catch it before the door slammed into the wall with a loud boom. Hoggle was sure it could be heard all across the Underground, it seemed so loud. When he did not hear the clamor of armor covered feet come rushing their direction, Hoggle knew it hadn’t been as loud as it had seemed to him. He shook his head to clear it before shoving his way in. Ludo waited outside as Hoggle had told him to earlier.

The house was like any other Goblin made home, simple with three rooms. Hoggle didn’t have to search to find Jareth’s old tutor, the man with the bird on his head. He was sound asleep in the ‘room’ that was decorated as a bedroom. Hoggle, trying to be respectful at the same time as urgent, shoved the old tutor several times. The old Tutor flailed for a moment with his covers and nightgown before Hoggle could muffle his mouth to speak.

The Tutor stared at Hoggle with a pointed glare before shoving Hoggle’s hand away from his mouth. “What do you want Dwarf?”

“Yeah, yeah,” piped in the bird. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“You heal the hurt children that come to the Labyrinth, right?” Hoggle asked, his tone to the point.

The Tutor looked puzzled for a moment. “Of course, I do, But I have not received a summon…”

“Come on then,” Hoggle gestured to the door. “There’s someone to heal.”

“Now see here Dwarf,” the Tutor started but Hoggle growled.

“Sarah doesn’t have time for this.” Hoggle grabbed a hold of the Tutor’s arm and, with more strength than Hoggle looked to have, he yanked the Tutor towards the door. The bird gave a yelp but before they could protest or call on trouble, Hoggle had them out the door. Ludo clamped one of his hands around the bird’s beak to stop him from squawking and his other around the old man. Hoggle had closed the door, placed a special key in the keyhole, turned and opened the door again.

Instead of the spacious interior of the Tutor’s home, there was the cluttered and dark interior of Hoggle’s home on the outside of the Labyrinth. Hoggle led the way through the maze of dirty clothes, miscellaneous gardening tools and other odd and end items. Ludo followed, practically carrying the Tutor and his muffled squawking bird through the small opening. It was harder for Ludo to maneuver but he managed to clear a path despite Hoggle’s growls of disapproval and spouts of profanity.

When they reached the door to Hoggle’s bedroom, Ludo put down the Tutor and blocked the way back to the door with his massive shaggy frame. As soon as he was free Hoggle grabbed the nightgown’s collar and brought the Tutor’s face down to his level. The bird muttered threats and curses but Hoggle ignored him.

“Now you listen here,” Hoggle said in a low voice. “That means you too you damn feather duster!” The bird head shut up immediately, stunned by the change in the Dwarf.

“You will go in and heal Sarah. You will keep this whole thing a secret from the King. And you will do it without question.” Hoggle spoke in a very calm voice, much calmer than he felt inside.

“Or else what?” the bird spoke.

“Or else,” Hoggle jerked him closer to emphasize his point, “I will put you in one of the forgotten oubliettes where not even the Goblin King could find you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” the Tutor said.

“You’re a coward,” the bird chirped in.

Hoggle laughed like a cursed man. “I’m already facing the gallows when the King catches me. He can do no worse than that.” Hoggle said in an eerily cheerful voice. “The Goblin King will make it a double hanging when he hears you’ve let her die.” Hoggle pushed open the creaky door to allow the Tutor to see who he was talking about.

Both man and bird’s jaws dropped in unison as they saw the grown-up version of Sarah in Hoggle’s small bed. She had been beautiful before but now she looked like a battered shell of another woman. Her long brown hair had been hacked to about her jaw, obviously work of a cruel bastard with scissors who purposely made it uneven. The right side of her face was a dark purple, sickening to look at. There were darkening marks around her throat that could even be seen darkening in the candle light. The most shocking thing of all was the once white dress that was forever stained crimson with a large volume of blood.

“My stars above,” the Tutor whispered. He rushed over to Sarah’s limp form, searching for any signs of life. Her breathing was exceptionally shallow and her heartbeat barely a flutter. How she had managed to hang on so long he had no idea but he had work fast.

He reached for his own magic, drawing from his own source rather than the Labyrinth. As he started to heal her, he felt something stir underneath his fingertips. He looked to see if Sarah had moved but it came again, this time he sensed it inside her, a warning. In his mind he could see the walls rising, ready to defend their mistress.

The old Tutor pulled back in shock. “I cannot heal her, only the King can.”

Hoggle Growled. The Tutor was really beginning to get on his nerves. “Well why not?”

“Lady Sarah is now a subject of the Labyrinth. That is the only reason she is alive now. Only the King can heal her. We must summon him.” The Tutor turned to leave but Hoggle would have none of it.

“King Jareth will cage her if he finds out she has returned. It’s better to let her die than become his prisoner.” Ludo wailed in anguish as he heard Hoggle Speak. “Don’t do that! You and I moth know he will. It’s better we let her die for her own sake.” Hoggle whipped away a stray tear that leaked out of his eye. He didn’t want Sarah to die but he had no choice. He couldn’t make the decision for her; she would hate him forever. What he would do for her was hunt down the bastard who did this to her.

“But King Jareth could save her life,” the Tutor protested. Ludo let out a wail and Hoggle yelled for the beast to shut up. Hoggle sensed something and knew it was not good. He snatched up another key and turned it home in the bedroom door. The scenery of the room changed and Ludo was rushing to get through the door. Hoggle shoved the beast through before following and slamming the door behind him.

Just as he closed the door the Tutor heard the flapping of winds then the crushing of dirt under boots. The door opposite the Tutor burst open and in stepped Jareth, looking as powerful as ever. He looked exactly the same as he had seven years ago, golden spun silk hair, black gloves to match his vest, poets shirt, trousers and boots. His mismatched eyes searched the interior of the cabin before coming to rest on his tutor.

“Where did that damn Dwarf go?” Jareth demanded. He marched up to his tutor, looking angrier than the Tutor had seen him in years.

“He gave us the slip sire,” the bird answered.

“Which door?” Jareth asked. He was hot on that treacherous Dwarf’s trail. He had only missed him by a few precious seconds.

“This one sire,” the bird head spoke, pointing with his beak towards the bedroom door. Jareth reached for the door knob, not giving it a second thought.

“Be warned sire,” the man half spoke but Jareth wasn’t listening.

“Not now Tutor,” Jareth sung open the door. “I am trying… to…” Jareth stopped mid sentence as he saw who was in the room. He felt his heart stop at the sight of all the blood, then start again only to pound fast and hard against his chest. He ripped off his gloves, noting how his hands trembled as he reached to find a pulse. Barely there, it seemed so weak and frail, so unlike the Sarah he had watched over so many years ago. He barely recognized her under the blood and bruises.

“Sarah,” he whispered. He slipped his arm under her thin shoulders and cradled her to his chest. He cupped her bruised cheek, noting how the bruise was shaped like a palm, far too big to be the Dwarf’s but not to big to be a mortal man’s. A glittering on her left ring finger did not help the mortal man theory at all.

“Could you not heal her old friend?” Jareth asked. The man shook her head.

“The Labyrinth as claimed her as its own. It will only allow you to heal her.” The old Tutor said from his position at the door.

“Mistress of the Labyrinth,” the bird chimed in.

Jareth stored that thought away for later. He had heard or read something about a ‘Mistress of the Labyrinth’ but with the sight of Sarah, he could not remember what it was.

“If you see Hoggle, call the guards immediately,” Jareth spoke.

Jareth needed to see to Sarah now, despite how many questions he had floating around his head. He drew up a crystal and let it swallow the two of them up. He scooped Sarah’s limp form up and watched the Dwarf’s dark walls fragment and fall away to reveal the stone walls of Jareth’s bed chamber.

With the utmost care he laid her on his black silk sheets, conscious of her belly. His hand came to rest on the plump curve of motherhood, knowing exactly what he would find but still slightly nervous. Her womb was void of the life it had nurtured, lost at the most a day ago. It was also the source of the tremendous volume of blood coating the lower half of Sarah’s body. The wound was jagged and ripped in several places. Jareth lifted Sarah’s shirt to see the multiple boot prints squashed together on her expanding belly.

Something black and violent rose up inside of Jareth, something he had felt only once before and not to this intensity. It was back liquid hatred, pouring into his blood and spreading like fire through his system. His insides twisted and his stomach threatened to rebel.

But he found his black hatred, pushed it down until it was locked away into a dark box, waiting to be released. Jareth would release it and sate his hunger for revenge soon. His hatred would know satisfaction and Sarah’s unborn child would be avenged. This would be his personal vendetta and he would not rest until it is complete. But for now, he had to heal Sarah. With his anger put away and his magic at the ready, Jareth rolled up his sleeves and began.


	3. Chapter 3

The Goblin King staggered back, his knees shaking slightly and his head feeling lighter than he thought possible. He dove straight into the task of healing Sarah, unaware of anything else for hours as he tried to repair her damaged body. He had not stopped, could not stop until she was healed. With the utmost care he had healed the severe damage done to her womb and several other organs, but the damage was done. Sarah could never have children. The scarring and the damage were too severe, even with the aid of magic as strong and as old as the Labyrinth’s.

Jareth looked at Sarah’s face sadly. The bruising he did not have the strength to heal yet stared out at him, twisting her beautiful features into something not like Sarah. How she had not sustained any broken bones was beyond him. She had been lucky in that aspect.

He could not turn his gaze away from the bruise, nearly black now, reminding him he should have broken rules to see her, made sure she was ok. The Underground rules dictated he could not check in on her, not after his return. Yet, he was the Goblin King, son of Oberon. He should have at least tried to see her and make sure she was cared for! He slammed his fist down on his nightstand in frustration, not feeling the pain shooting up his arm.

Walking over to a pull rope, he pulled three times in rapid succession. Almost instantly, three short goblins came scurrying through his door to bow at his feet. They were no taller than his knees, all some variation of green and brown color but they wore no sign of servants clothing. They stayed in a bowed position, only daring to look at their exhausted king with shock written across their faces. They had never seen their king in such a state, clothing, though black, stained with blood and wrinkled, his normal lightly tanned skin was whitewash and there was danger in his eyes, more than there normally was. But the town and castle were in an uproar with all sorts of rumors flying about, so the servants were not too surprised. Just very curious as to what the true story was, and Goblin curiosity was always interesting.

Jareth addressed the first one, trying to act like his cool and dignified self despite his less than acceptable appearance. He did not have the energy to do more than stand there and appear regal. “Fetch the captain of my bodyguard.” The first one bowed deeply again and rushed to fulfill his King’s request. “Fetch the goblin girl from the kitchen and tell the seamstress to be ready with a wardrobe for a woman,” Jareth spoke to the second Goblin. The second bowed and scampered off, only daring a very brief glance back over at Sarah’s limp body. “Fetch hot water for my bath and herbal soaps for bruising.”

The third Goblin looked slightly confused at his request. “But sire, can you not fill the tub yourself as you always do?”

“That was an order,” Jareth growled. He put thought into action and the little Goblin fell through the floor and into the Bog of Eternal Stench. Jareth did not think the Goblin would find his action justifiable but the Goblin King was not one to be questioned, especially in the state of rage and exhaustion he was in.

He turned and pulled the rope once more. Another little Goblin entered, not getting half way through his bow before being barked at. “I don’t care how many it takes you but fill my tub with hot water and herbal soap for bruises.” The goblin turned to leave but stopped when Jareth spoke again. “And bring clean sheets for my bed.” The Goblin bowed again before retreating out of the room.

A knock came from Jareth’s door and he bade them in. A tall goblin entered, half a head higher than Jareth and equally as fierce entered the bedchamber. Horn Hammer was rightfully named for his hammer of steel and dragon horns he had collected himself. He was ruthless with every ounce of Goblin cunning and craftiness that made them such formidable opponents.

“Your Majesty,” Horn Hammer spoke in his deep voice. He clasped his hand over his heart and bowed at the waist. His skin was dark green, almost black with sharp yellow eyes, a jagged mass of black hair cropped close to his head, and armor the same shade of dark green as his skin. “How can I be of service?”

Jareth nodded to his friend, before sitting down in one of the luxurious chairs adorning his room. He could no longer stand up, his body was protesting and demanding he rest. But plans had to be put in motion and they could not wait any longer. “Search through my bodyguard, find two of your best scouts, the stealthiest and alert you have. Prepare them to be sent to the Aboveground and to watch out for a mortal man. He will have to return to his dwellings sooner or later and I want to know what he does.

“Also weed through the troops, find the craftiest and the most able to play mind games. I will hand pick them from there. They will need to be prepared to go to the Aboveground as well.

“Call off the hunt for the Dwarf Hoggle and increase security around and in the castle. He will show up here soon enough. I will have a new assignment for you when you return.”

The Goblin Captain nodded and saluted. “My King, know what I do not question your orders nor do I mind if you refuse to answer but my Goblin curiosity is peaked. Why are we scouting for a mortal man? Does he pose some sort of threat?”

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose. Horn Hammer deserved an answer. There were no secrets between him and his Captain. Horn Hammer would also be able to quell most of the rumors flying through the castle. Jareth rose to his feet and swept aside the curtains and blankets hiding what lay on his bed. She was still wearing her blood soaked dress and the bruising was stark against her pale skin, even the ones covering her belly.

Horn Hammer visibly paled for a moment, something Jareth had rarely seen the Captain do, before rage took over his facial features. His hands clenched and unclenched, itching to reach back for his hammer and create some mayhem. “Mistress Sarah,” he said, unable to take his eyes off of her. He turned to Jareth then bowed deeply. “I will have all the men you require and more. The men will be more than willing to go when they hear what this bastard did to our Mistress of the Labyrinth.” As Horn Hammer left, the young Goblin woman slipped inside, just as Jareth covered Sarah back up.

“Your Grace,” she said in a sweet voice as she curtsied for the King. She was a mid-height Goblin, going no higher than Jareth’s waist with light brown skin and dark brown hair to match her dark eyes. She was thin but Jareth had no doubt she would be able to do the job presented to her.

“I need a hand maiden for Lady Sarah. Can I trust that you will be able to complete the task?” Jareth asked her.

“Yes, your Grace, I can,” Fiona said, bowing again.

“Your first task is to the Royal Seamstress. Tell her I need a nightgown that is loose around the abdomen as soon as possible. Measurements will be taken later when she is up and able. Prepare the room across from mine and see that everything is as comfortable as possible. See that a collection of some of the best Aboveground written stories we have find their way onto the bookshelves too.” Jareth spoke as he sat down once more, his body aching as he wondered if the Goblins were done with filling the bath yet.

Fiona curtsied then ran out of the room to do as she had been instructed. Jareth rose to his feet and opened the bathroom door to see if the Goblins were done. Steam poured out of the bathroom, hitting Jareth in the face. Jareth checked the water, finding it a comfortable temperature, perfect for cleaning the blood off of Sarah. He would not undress her completely; he may be cruel and manipulative but he stood by some semblance of principles. This was definitely not how he would see his love naked.

Jareth felt a ripple of magic as he stood over the bath. Knowing only one man who dared to enter the Goblin King’s presence unannounced, Jareth dashed out of the bath chambers to Sarah. Unannounced visits were never a good thing, considering his timing, his visit was most likely a very bad thing.

Standing over the unconscious Sarah was a regal man, his own features and platinum blond hair were strikingly similar to those of the Goblin King. He stood a bit taller than Jareth, his eyes a dazzling shade of blue like Jareth’s right eye, but where Jareth’s clothes had some flash, Oberon’s were cut for regality. He could’ve been made from marble the way his features were cut and indifferent to the outside world.

“Such a pity,” Oberon’s deep voice rumbled, though Jareth could detect no trace of actual pity in his father’s voice. Jareth often wondered growing up if his father was even capable of feeling any emotion. So often it seemed not. “She isn’t a terribly beautiful thing.”

“Beauty is subjective,” Jareth bit out. Oberon’s frosty gaze looked over at his son before Jareth recognized his mistake. “My liege,” he adds with a sneer.

A sigh escaped Oberon. “You are your mother’s child,” he repeated the tired phrase. “So quick to emotions.” Jareth clenched his teeth and crossed his arms in front of him, tension rising up inside of him.

A sneer tightened the Goblin King’s mouth. “What brings you to my humble kingdom, my liege?” His words were as tight as his muscles and dripping with false cheer. Jareth had never been one for lip service and it had never been something Oberon was ever able to drill into his head with any amount of honesty.

Oberon turned from the prone figure to face his son. His eyes were as flat as ever, but Jareth saw something in them that he’d never seen before. Curiosity. Good gods above, must everyone try to inquire about his business? “Rumors travel fast in the Underground.”

“When has it not?” Jareth snapped.

“A human girl,” Oberon tisked as he shook his head. Jareth wanted to rip every blond strand of his father’s hair out of his head as it swung. His very presence infuriated the Goblin King. “Such a pity for you. They wither and die so quickly.”

Jareth was sure he would strike his father. His hands itched and he was having a hard time finding a reason why the idea didn’t have any solid merit other than to relieve some of Jareth’s dark rage. “Spoken from experience, my liege?”

Oberon’s expression darkened. It was subtle on such an impassive face, but Jareth knew the warning signs. There was a blur of motion and Jareth staggered back, clutching his reddening cheek from the backhand as blood filled his mouth. He’d depleted his magic on Sarah; he should’ve known Oberon would sense it and know when it was safe to strike. Jareth should’ve minded his words and not sent out that little barb.

But Jareth couldn’t stop himself from sinking that little barb in. He never could pass any opportunity by to see his father react to anything.

“Mind your tongue,” Oberon commanded. Cold magic tightened around Jareth like a second skin and Jareth bared his bloody teeth. “You forget your station.”

“You forget yours,” Jareth reminded. Dredges of magic, little weak tendrils coiled up from inside him and slipped between his father’s magic and his own skin to encompass him in its security. “You are a guest in _my_ kingdom. Here, your power is subjective to the Labyrinth and it’s king.”

Oberon’s lip twitched. Jareth smiled in satisfaction. Some unseen force rumbled between the two magic wielders, an ancient force older than their bloodline and equally as powerful rose to remind them of their insignificance. Oberon’s impassive features cracked in rage as Jareth’s pulled up in a smirk. He’d won this round, and Oberon hated him for it.

“Begone, my liege, until you are summoned once more.” Jareth’s voice was as cold and as strong as ever, but it wasn’t just words being spoken. Magic built those words, and Oberon was bound in the magic more ancient than him. His impassive features snarled as he winked out of the room, bound to obey a command issued by a lesser king than his own lofty station.

Once Oberon departed, Jareth stood still, tremors of unleashed anger threatening to consume him. The night was an intensely taxing one on his self-control. He wanted nothing more than to sit down and meditate, to rest from the exhausting task of healing magic, to carve up some human male. But there was no relief in sight yet.

Jareth looked to the ceiling and prayed to the Labyrinth for patience as he tried to just breathe. He was no used to Sarah if he couldn’t remain calm. She needed him to be gentile and he couldn’t do that if he couldn’t control this rampant anger welling up inside of him.

When he felt in control once more, he turned to Sarah’s limp form in the bed. He needed to make quick work of this. It was only a matter of time before she woke, and he didn’t relish her waking up in a bath with him, even if they were both going to be dressed to some degree.

As dirty as it made Jareth feel, he checked to see if she wore any underthings before he grabbed a dagger from the bedside table. The blade made short work of the dress. Jareth tried not to look at her as he scooped her up as gingerly as possible. His control was holding by threads, and looking at the damage done to Sarah would test even the saintliest of creatures. She needed him in control now. He could waylay the monster later.

He didn’t care if he ruined his clothing as he held her in the water, making sure to keep her head safely tucked into his shoulder as he let her soak in the medicinal properties of the water. The tiny little specs of magic left in him he used to keep the bath warm for her and tried to increase the potency of the healing. But it gave him plenty of time to reflect on his failings.

It also gave him time to plan.

**Author's Note:**

> I thrive on reviews


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